


touch

by Emetic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Force Bond, Masturbation, Mental Link, The Last Jedi Spoilers, Voyeurism, rey is in charge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emetic/pseuds/Emetic
Summary: “I’m sorry,” Rey says suddenly, as if she has a choice in when or where their new mental link will act up. She somehow doubts that Ben knows, either, judging by his sincere attempt to cover himself with his hand.





	touch

**Author's Note:**

> i got back from the movie and immediately wrote this before i had any opportunities to read other fics that are inevitably about the same subject matter

Rey feels it before she sees it. There is an electric tension in the air, one she’s grown familiar with over the days and weeks since she has begun to see Kylo Ren with her mind’s eye. He creates that tension wherever he goes, even in her thoughts. She’s not sure if it’s the imposing strength of his figure or the horrors of his mind that give way to the thickness in the air but whatever it may be, it serves as his constant companion.

This time, though, there is more to it. She feels the electricity in her extremities, feels it crashing in her belly like waves against the rocky beaches of Ach’To. It’s enough to take her breath away but she doesn’t feel truly breathless until she sees Kylo—Ben—beside her.

Rey has seen Ben in various states of undress but if he has ever seen her, he’s never said anything. She’s not sure if he would be able to contain it if he had—Ben is wryly funny when he wants to be, and perhaps the most sarcastic man she’s ever met. He loves to tease her with any ammunition he has.

Now Rey is suddenly holding the bullet for the first time.

Ben is reclining on the ground beside her in her hut. The angles of his legs and hips are wrong—he must be lying in bed aboard his ship. His leggings are rucked around his knees and his strong thighs are exposed to the air. His rough hand holds still around the base of his dick, caught in the act of caressing but not yet fully in the throes of self-pleasure.

It isn’t the first time Rey has seen a man in this state. There are always men who are ready at a moment’s notice to parade their cock in front of any female with a pulse. Rey feels her body flood with shock as Ben suddenly opens his eyes and jerks his head. His face, with his wide dark eyes and thick lips, is pulled into an expression of equal surprise. Rey can feel Ben’s frenzied heartbeat as his cock flags with alarm and she knows that her own is racing to match it.

“I’m sorry,” Rey says suddenly, as if she has a choice in when or where their new mental link will act up. She somehow doubts that Ben knows, either, judging by his sincere attempt to cover himself with his hand.

“You could’ve—knocked,” Ben says, voice staggering over the words. He grimaces as his attempt to lighten the mood falls flat. “You picked a bad time.”

“I can’t control it,” Rey whispers, feeling as if her words have to struggle to escape. She wants to look away but feels frozen, staring at the space where Ben’s hand covers as much as he can. It’s not enough.

The electricity in her belly has turned into a lightning storm setting her body alight. There is an ache between her legs. Something is unfolding within her.

“I should put something on,” Ben mutters. Before she can think too much about it, Rey is speaking.

“Don’t let me get in the way,” she says. It comes out in stunted pieces as her better judgment loses the battle to keep her mouth shut. She doesn’t look into Ben’s eyes, but she can feel that he’s assessing her.

“Rey,” Ben croaks. His cock is starting to fill again and Rey can feel the arousal that licks at the edges of his shame. She feels with a dizzying rush of heat that he has never done this before, never been exposed to anyone in his adulthood save for medi-droids.

Rey finally lifts her eyes to meet Ben’s gaze and finds that his surprise has settled into an almost shy hesitance. His hand shifts to form a loose circle around his cock, the flushed tip pushing past his thumb.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Rey asks when she finds her voice again, driven by the roiling sensation of unrest in the air. Her eyes drop back to Ben’s cock and she finds herself admiring it. It’s large, as far as she can compare with her limited knowledge. The shaft is spotted with dark little freckles that make her feel unusually affectionate.

“Yeah,” Ben admits. He’s red in the face to match the flush of his cock, which he gives a tentative stroke. His foreskin pushes over the glans before he pulls it back again in a long, slow slide. Rey closes her parted lips and blinks once.

“You’ve been restless,” Rey says, narrating the shared thoughts and feelings that spread through their mental link. “You thought this might help.”

Perplexingly, Ben answers with, “I’m sorry.”

Rey’s eyes linger on his cock momentarily before she looks up again. She licks her lips and settles her weight on her knees where she kneels by her fire, pressing up from her heels. “Where am I to you right now?” she asks.

The lump in Ben’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Floating about a foot from my bed, in my chamber.”

“Oh. How about...” Rey shuffles to the side.

“No, now you’re part of the wall.”

“Sorry. Here?”

“Move a little bit to the left. Your other left.”

It takes some finagling but soon they have arranged themselves like dolls in a dollhouse, posing for some imaginary scene. Ben has opened his knees to make space for Rey at the foot of his bed. Ben is sprawled by her fire, the light from the flame cutting through his image.

“We’re doing this?” Ben asks once they have settled. His cock has lost some of its girth in the shuffle and its flush has receded, freckles stark on his pale skin.

There is time for Rey to reconsider. She remembers when she had first awoken aboard his ship. She remembers his words and the fear they sent through her body, as they would any woman just by word association. How scared she had been.

Faintly, she feels Ben cringe, and it brings her back to the surface.

“You don’t have to,” Ben says with a softness that sounds unnatural between his teeth. Rey sucks in a breath. His eyes are dark, so dark, looking through her. She knows he can feel the tight heat in her stomach and she wonders if that’s what makes his knuckles go white as he grips the inside of his own thigh.

“I want to,” she says. Quickly, she adds, “Do _you_ want to? We don’t have to.” She clasps her hands together in her lap and squeezes anxiously.

“Yeah,” he answers in a thin rasp. Rey swallows. His insides are drawn tight, his stomach aches with how much he wants this. She can feel it echoed in her belly. She licks her lips.

“Go on, then,” she says, looking down her nose at Ben’s cock in his hand. “Touch it.”

“I didn’t know you were kinky,” Ben says with a nervous smile as he begins to stroke himself.

“I’m not—that,” Rey protests, not quite understanding, but feels like she should object anyway. Her sex education on Jakku was limited. She somehow feels like Ben’s couldn’t have been much better.

“The Jedi are celibate,” Ben answers her thought. “I didn’t see much action back then. Can I see your tits?”

The request comes suddenly enough to surprise her. Rey is momentarily embarrassed, as if the question is completely left field and she wasn’t watching the hypnotic push-and-pull of his hand on his cock.

The energy between them trembles. Rey hesitates a moment before lifting her hands, cupping her breasts through her clothes.

“These tits?” she asks and immediately feels foolish but Ben doesn’t call her out on it. He nods and presses his lips tightly together, gazing at her chest, waiting.

Rey palms her chest, feeling the soft swells of her breasts through cloth. They’re fuller now than they were only a short time ago—regular meals of fish, porg, and blue milk have proven more nourishing than half-portions of dehydrated nutrient meal whenever she could get them, and her ribs no longer gleam through her flesh. Her breasts are lovely, round handfuls and Ben wants to see them more than anything.

“No,” Rey answers and Ben drops his head back with a moan. Denying him seems to ignite some mixture of frustration and arousal in him, urging his hand to work faster, demanding pleasure.

Rey’s breath quivers as she realizes that she can smell him. There is a faint medical smell of bacta from his healing wounds but beneath that is musk, heavy and masculine. Her guts feel as if they are tied in knots and she clenches around nothing.

“You can touch yourself, too, if you want,” Ben urges. His thrill of excitement is palpable in the air. He licks his lips and rolls his head back, briefly squeezing his eyes shut as he resists a wave of pleasure. He is all breath when he speaks, “You’re so—empty, you want to be full, I can do that for you.”

It’s a heavy promise, one that Rey wishes could be fulfilled in more ways than one. She wonders if he could keep that promise, filling her up with everything she ever searched for in exchange for her strength. His cock in exchange for the heat of her body.

He’s burning in his skin without her help, pulled taut and resisting the urge to let go. The muscles of his abdomen clench as his hips arch, a droplet of precum leaking from the tip of his cock. He’s holding back, drawing it out, wanting more.

“It’s all right,” Rey whispers, her voice nearly lost to the sounds of crackling flames and his heaving breaths. “Let it happen.”

Just like that, Ben gives in. His pleasure reverberates off of Rey and she gasps, pleasure peaking in a violent crescendo. Her insides pulse with ecstasy and she nearly sobs, simultaneously overwhelmed with too-much and not-enough.

Ben’s cock spits cum in thick pulses all over his stomach—four, five shots collecting in the curves of his abs before the fluid goes thin and drools all over his fist and, _oh_ , there is raw life there, brightly illuminated by the Force.

Ben’s choked groan is chest-deep, fading to a low hiss of breath that struggles from his tightened throat. His head spins and Rey’s matches it, her body swaying dangerously. She reaches out for the dirt floor of the hut to steady herself, her fingernails collecting grit.

With her eyes closed, their breathing overlaps in the small space. When Rey opens her eyes, she expects Ben to be gone. He’s still lying there, though, his body humming with relaxation as he goes boneless from release. He scrubs his clean hand over his face and pushes it through his hair with a grunt before opening his eyes to look at her.

The electricity in the air has given way to something softer, sleepier. Rey shifts on her knees, bracketing Ben’s spread thighs with her hands.

Ben makes a sound, a soft “mm?” of query but doesn’t move. Rey looks around them momentarily, trying to remember the configuration of Ben’s bedroom, and climbs over his hips to his right side.

Ben looks apprehensive when she glances back at him. Both of his hands rest on his stomach now, not bothering to avoid the mess he’s made. He doesn’t dare to assume what she’s doing, and his breath holds still as she turns to face him.

Rey holds his gaze as she slowly lowers herself to the ground beside him. She hopes that she appears to be lying beside him in his bed. She rolls into her side, tucking her arms up into the space between their bodies. They are so close but do not touch.

They don’t speak. Ben’s eyes flick over her figure—he doesn’t luxuriate in the moment but takes brief notes of her actions, as if trying to piece together the answer to a greater question.

“Rey,” Ben says after a stretch of quiet. He lifts one hand and reaches out slowly, his fingers curving toward his palm, scarred knuckles on offer. He means to stroke her cheek and Rey draws in a breath of expectation. She can smell the leather of his gloves still clinging to his bare hands. She closes her eyes.

The contact she yearns for never comes. Rey squeezes her eyes shut more tightly, fighting the rise of dispair in her throat. When she opens them, Ben is gone and she is lying alone by the fireside.

Rey rolls onto her back and listens to the rain outside, the crash of the waves on the beach, the song of the Force as it flows through every living thing in the sea and sky and grass.

It’s impossible to be alone in the Force, but Rey is uniquely acquainted with loneliness. It aches through her limbs and up through her chest, into her throat, and through her mouth with a sob.


End file.
